A Fool There Was
by sitvha
Summary: Jean really wished he checked what day it was when he woke up that morning. [jeanmarco april fool's day]
_note: I never cared about April Fool's Day but I wanted to give some meaning to this pointless day. This is so cheesy and bad and short bye. Title is from a silent film that has absolutely nothing to do with this fic but I liked its title._

* * *

He was going to do it. Five years of pining and wishing and dreaming and he was finally going to do it.

He wasn't the best at saying everything he meant, which Marco has always known so he would help fill in the blanks. This _one_ thing though... Jean knew he had to say it.

They had been friends since before Jean could remember. There was no "before Marco" or "after Marco" it had always been just Marco. Marco's freckles, smile, laugh, warmth, kindness, and every other single thing about him have surrounded Jean for his whole life. They would fight just as all best friends do, but their make-up process would usually begin with a soft "sorry" and end in a tickle fight.

It was one of those tickle fights that made Jean see Marco in a different light. He didn't remember what they were fighting about, but he remembered how warm and soft he looked in his winter clothes as they tumbled together in the snow, the way his red cheeks and nose hid his freckles, his laugh seeming to hit something in Jean's heart because he felt it physically lurch, the way his gloved hands tickled Jean's underarms - he felt something different, like he was finally understanding something. He stopped trying to tickle Marco and made no sound, he only stared at him breathlessly, focusing on the snowflakes on his long eyelashes and wondering how the hell someone's eyes could be so pretty. He understood this feeling was love the second Marco's face turned worried and grabbed his arm to ask what was wrong. Jean didn't freak out, really he didn't, but he was quiet the rest of the day. He never thought of Marco as beautiful before, but that day made him question how that was even possible. How did it take him this long to realize he had been in love with his best friend for his whole life? When they went back inside, Marco kept saying that he could tell him anything and that he would always be there for him and that only made things worse for Jean's newly-sparked heart so he just fell asleep on his couch while Marco played video games.

They never talked about that day, and it may have been five years ago, but Jean could still feel the fingers lightly running through his hair when he drifted off to sleep.

Marco was coming over to his apartment today. They didn't get to see each other as often as they used to, so they would meet up every Friday night to watch a movie, go out for drinks, or just stay in. They would always stay over at one of their places that night, because they were usually either too inebriated or tired or, in Jean's case, whipped out of his mind to want to be anywhere else. Those nights were always rough on his heart, but he would much rather be just out of reach than not in reach at all.

But it was going to be different tonight.

He'd been having this argument with himself for years, whether he should risk their friendship for more or if he should just stay quiet, but Marco was worth it. He was worth anything. So he was going to go out on a limb for the chance that those stolen looks, small touches, shy smiles, and quiet words meant something more. If those things could belong to him and his own to Marco ... then it would be worth trying.

He heard Marco's signature knock on his front door and he kind of felt like running but he pulled himself together because this was _Marco_. Even if he didn't feel the same way, he knew that he wouldn't hate him and they would still be best friends. He definitely knew it...

He slowly walked over to the door and wrapped his fingers around the handle, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. _He said he'd always be there for me, and Marco doesn't lie_. Jean readied himself and opened the door to see a smiling Marco looking as beautiful as ever. _Fuck, does he have to do that all the time?_

"Hey, Jean!"

He realized he hadn't said anything yet, so he choked out a small "hey" before opening the door wider for Marco to walk through. He immediately dropped himself on Jean's couch, bouncing a little on the cushions. _He's so damn cute what the fuck?!_

"So what do you want to do tonight? I was thinking we could -"

"I have to tell you something."

He wasn't planning on interrupting but he couldn't take it anymore. He thought that maybe he wouldn't be able to look at Marco, but he actually couldn't take his eyes off him. He'd been waiting all day, all his life, and now Marco was _there_.

"What's wrong?" Marco asked hesitantly, sounding worried like he did that day in the snow and Jean couldn't believe it had taken him until then to realize he loved his freckled best friend and until now to finally tell him.

He walked over to sit on the other end of the couch and squeezed his hands together to stop himself from doing something stupid like grabbing the back of Marco's neck and kissing every inch of his face and more. He had practiced what he wanted to say, but he didn't remember any of it. He only knew what was right in front of him and that was Marco, just like he'd always been.

"I don't know how to say it..."

Marco always knew how to fill in the blanks, but even he looked lost, nothing but concern on his face. Jean didn't want him to fill in the blanks this time. He had to do it.

"Jean? Come on, you're scaring me a little..."

Jean smiled fondly at that, because how could someone so kind and honest have stuck with his shit for so long? He let go of the tight hold he had on his hands and slowly reached one of his hands to touch Marco's arm. He kept the hold he had on Marco's eyes because he owed him that.

"I... um... my stomach does weird things when you're with me."

Well. That was one way to put it.

Marco blushed a little but mostly looked very confused. "What... does that mean exactly?"

Jean grunted and put his head in his hands in embarrassment. _Why am I like this?_

He lifted his head to look back at Marco, which automatically made his cheeks redden, but he was determined. "I... I like you... a lot. For a really long time."

Marco didn't say anything, and that terrified Jean even more than he already was. Marco still looked confused for a while, like he was thinking over something, but then his eyes widened a little and his face went blank.

"That's very funny, Jean. Really. Well done."

Jean froze. He didn't know where this was coming from; now it was Jean's turn to be confused. "What? I'm not - wait!" Jean tightened his hand around Marco's arm as he tried to get up to leave, temporarily stopping him but he wasn't looking at Jean anymore.

"I can't believe you would do this." He didn't sound angry, just so so sad and it killed Jean. This wasn't what he wanted. If he knew Marco was going to be this upset then he would have kept everything he felt inside just so he could smile instead. How could this be happening? Marco hated him, Marco couldn't even look at him, Marco didn't want to be near him, Marco _couldn't believe he would do this._

He wasn't breathing, he felt his eyes watering but he wouldn't let them fall. He's cried in front of Marco a million times before, but he couldn't this time. Not when he made Marco say those things and look so disappointed.

"Are my feelings some kind of joke to you? Is that why you did this?"

And when Marco turned to look at him, Jean saw the tears falling from his eyes and he wished he never said anything.

He tried to find his voice, he couldn't let Marco think he didn't care about his feelings, he could hate him and hurt him but he couldn't think that. "You're not a joke to me." He couldn't speak above a whisper, he thought he was going to choke. "You've never been a joke to me."

That apparently wasn't the right thing to say because Marco just looked even more miserable as he closed his eyes tighter. "Stop! Just stop saying these things!"

Now Jean was getting angry. He could handle being rejected but he never expected this. Not from Marco. "Why? Are you that disgusted by me?" His voice rose to the usual level it did when he got mad, but the tears he tried so hard to hold back made their escape down his cheeks before he roughly wiped them away with the back of his hands. The movement seemed to startle Marco for a moment, making him pause, but Jean couldn't stop to think about it.

"I -"

"Why would you ever think I don't care about your feelings? Do you think that's what I'm doing? All I ever do is think about you, I just want you to be happy and it's fucking _killing_ me that you're not right now but I don't understand how _you_ could do this to _me_?"

"Jean, I -"

"I only ever hoped you would feel the same way, I didn't think you really could, but I never thought you would... hurt me... like this. Why would you think this is a joke? Why would you think I thought your feelings were a joke?"

Marco stared at him in shock, tears continuing to pour down his face as Jean spoke. The room was quiet, only filled by Jean's heavy breaths and Marco's soft sniffles.

"I... I thought..."

"What! What did you think?!" Jean's loud voice made Marco jump, making Jean feel even shittier than he already did.

"It's April Fool's Day."

 _Oh._

 _Oh my god._

"I thought... you were making fun of me... of how I feel..."

 _Oh my fucking god._

How could he manage to screw up this bad over something so _fucking stupid_.

Jean's face softened as he saw the sad look on Marco's face, as he understood that he was just protecting his feelings just as he had been when he thought Marco was trying to hurt him, as he saw how upset Marco now was for unintentionally hurting him. Jean should have known there was some other reason, Marco would never have reacted like that without a reason.

 _Wait... what does he mean by "how I feel"?_

He walked the few steps over to Marco to fill in the gap between them. "I'm so sorry, Jean, I didn't mean it I didn't know you were -"

Jean cut him off by wrapping his arms around his shoulders, trying to show him everything he was horrible at saying. That he meant every word, that he loved him so fucking much, that he wanted him to love him too. He hoped he loved him too.

 _Please love me too_.

He felt Marco's arms wrap around his waist and his face bury in the crook of his neck, just as he buried his own face in Marco's.

They stayed like that for a while before Jean made the first move, poking Marco's rib in hopes of hearing him laugh, and it worked. Marco's head immediately lifted off his shoulder and he started giggling that beautiful sound that constantly ruined Jean, and then he ruined him some more by going for Jean's armpit, _that fucking bastard_.

Their tickle fight traveled to the couch and they both couldn't stop laughing, trying to gasp for air while also touching all the spots they knew would get the other to lose their shit. Eventually, their laughs died down as they both lost their energy to continue, lying on their sides and facing each other. Marco reached for his hand and held it close to his face, and Jean could hardly believe where his day began, with little to no real belief that Marco would feel the same way as he did, and how it was ending, with a complete misunderstanding turned into an almost certain understanding if the way Marco was looking at him was any sort of sign.

"You know I realized I loved you when we had one of these fights in the snow." Marco's face filled with surprise and his cheeks reddened just like they did on that day. Jean pushed a stray hair away from Marco's eyes so he could see him better. "You looked so beautiful and warm. I wanted to make you mine. I always have, it just took me too long to understand."

Marco somehow blushed even harder and smiled wide before hesitantly kissing one of Jean's knuckles. Jean was a lot calmer than he was before, like this was a normal thing between them and it was just finally falling into place, like Marco's kiss belonged on his skin and it was no surprise that he put it there.

"I realized I loved you when you first fell asleep in my bed."

"Ah! What! But... I was... I was probably six years old! We were so young!"

Marco laughed at Jean's sputtering, which made Jean pout, but he also did it because he knew it always put a smile on Marco's face. "I saw you sleeping and you looked so cute I couldn't stand it. I put my fingers in your hair and you leaned into my hand and... that was it. All I knew was that I wanted to keep you forever."

Jean was staring at him in wonder as he spoke, eyes starting to water again as he saw the clear love in Marco's face that he knew reflected his own. He let go of Marco's hand to rest it on his cheek instead, scooting even closer to press his forehead against his as he closed his eyes.

"You've been hurting for so long, Marco. I'm so sorry that I thought you would hurt me."

"Are you serious, Jean? I'm the one who's sorry I shouldn't have -"

Jean cut him off with a kiss, it was gentle and sweet and full of everything he would say to him for as long as Marco would have him.

And when Marco kissed back, pushing himself closer and placing one hand on Jean's cheek and the other around his back, Jean really hoped Marco would have him for the rest of his life. And if the day was any signifier for what happened when Jean Kirstein hoped for something, then he probably had a pretty good chance.


End file.
